


Kiss With A Fist

by newtgottlaid



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: BSHCU (Buttslut Hermann Cinematic Universe), Can't you tell from the title?, Fisting, I know y'all love him, M/M, That's it, also they're in love, buttslut Hermann
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:29:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23114719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newtgottlaid/pseuds/newtgottlaid
Summary: Hermann has a request, Newton is more than willing to help out.
Relationships: Newton Geiszler/Hermann Gottlieb
Comments: 4
Kudos: 49





	Kiss With A Fist

**Author's Note:**

> There's not nearly enough Newt/Hermann fisting fic... pls don't look at me

“Newton,” Hermann groans, “must you wear those ridiculous gloves?”

Newton grins and snaps the bright blue latex against his wrist, “You know I bite my nails, dude. Safety first! Isn’t that what you’re always telling me?”

Hermann rolls his eyes. “That’s _not_ \--”

“Should I wear the lab coat too?”

Hermann reaches down and slaps Newton’s leg. “Shut up and get on with it, then, you wretched man.” He lies back and wriggles himself into a more comfortable position on his mountain of expensive foam pillows.

Newton laughs and leans over to grab off the floor the litre bottle of lube they bought just for this occasion. As he reaches down, he lays a gloved hand on Hermann’s chest for balance, and Hermann-- well, Hermann’s never really thought himself to have any particular _kinks_ , but the feeling of the cool latex on his bare skin makes him shiver in more ways than one. Newton squirts a few generous pumps of lube onto his right hand, and uses his left to gently part Hermann’s legs. 

Hermann feels a bit exposed. He always does, no matter how frequently he is on the, er- _receiving_ end of things. The way Newt’s pupils dilate as he runs a gentle finger over Hermann’s puckered rim, the way he always licks his lips inadvertently in concentration-- it’s not so much the being exposed as it is the being _desired_ , and it leaves Hermann lightheaded. The heady rush of lust passes over him in waves as Newton slowly circles his hole with a cool, wet finger. He thrusts his hips towards the touch before he even registers doing so.

“Whoa, there, cowboy,” Newton says, “We’ve got a long way to go.”

Hermann flushes bright red.

Newton notices immediately. “Don’t act so coy, Herms, you’re the one who asked for this.”

Hermann squeezes his eyes shut and tries to manually force the heat from his face.

(He _did_ ask for it. A week ago, while Newton was giving him the buggering of his life, Hermann reached down to grope at Newton’s prick. He loved when Newton rubbed around his rim as he was fucking him, but Newton was a little occupied-- holding Hermann’s bad leg out of the way with one hand and tweaking Hermann’s nipples with the other. This time, Hermann rubbed his rim himself, groaning as he felt how stretched out-- how absolutely _ruined_ he was-- by Newton’s hard, fat prick. Newton isn’t even particularly well-endowed; his prick, to be quite honest, is probably on the shorter end of average, but it's thicker than anything, and Hermann _loves it._ He loves the stretch, he loves feeling so full, he-- well, this particular time he slipped the tip of his finger in alongside that fat prick and let out a filthy moan.

“Wh-- what are you doing, Hermann, ah--” Newton looked down at where they were joined, and at the sight of Herman’s finger twitching alongside his prick, spilled himself in an instant.

As he pulled out, his come trickled out of Hermann’s swollen hole. Hermann frantically shoved more fingers in with a needy whine. “Get your bloody fingers in me, you bastard.”

“Guh,” Newton squeaked, “oh-- okay.” He pushed in three as Hermann pulled his own out to start jerking himself off. He spread them and wiggled them around a bit until he rubbed over Hermann’s prostate. 

“One, one more, Newton.” Hermann said, breathing hard, “one more, darling.”

Newton complied-- the stretch wasn’t even that difficult, with Hermann so loose from the buggering.

Hermann groaned. “Oh hell, Newton,” he whimpered, “I want your whole bloody hand in me.” And with that, he came. _Hard_. Harder, maybe, than he ever had before.

Later, as he was gently wiping away the release splattered up Hermann’s chest, Newton asked, “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what, darling?” 

“The, the thing you said,” Newton looked embarrassed, “about wanting my whole hand. Is that something you’d like?”

Hermann closed his eyes and let out a contented hum. “Perhaps, darling. I’m certainly not opposed.”

Newton put down the washcloth and cozied up beside Hermann. “Well, it’s just... I’d like to take care of you like that. I know how much you like to feel full.” 

Hermann’s eyes shot open as he turned bright red. But he didn’t argue, just pressed a kiss to Newton’s shoulder and snuggled in closer.)

“Don’t be shy, baby,” Newton says now, as he pushes a slow finger into Hermann’s hole. “I think it’s _so_ hot,” he leans down and presses a kiss to the underside of Hermann’s prick, which is laying half-hard against his belly, “I think _you’re_ so hot."

Hermann bites back a _yes, darling, that’s it_ as Newton’s finger slips all the way inside.

“Good?” Newton asks, as he curls and uncurls the digit.

“Fantastic,” Hermann says in his best sarcastic monotone, “let’s have another.”

Newton grins.

A second lubed finger prods at his rim, then slides in alongside the first. Hermann lets out a bit of a whine and bears down on Newton as he rolls his hips up.

“Heh. You like that?” Newton asks.

Hermann does like it. He likes it a whole lot. He isn’t really stretched out _yet_ , not as much as he wants, but he is greatly enjoying the feel of the cool latex inside him. Not that he’d ever admit it. 

“Come on, Newton,” he teases instead, through gritted teeth, “are you going to get your hand in me or not? I’ll do it myself if I have to.”

Newton’s rhythm in and out stutters. “No fucking way, man,” he shoves in a third finger rather roughly, much to Hermann’s delight, “I’ve wanted this for _ages_. There’s no way I’m going to sit back and watch you,” his voice cracks, “watch you-- oh fuck, hang on.”

Hermann sits up with a frown as Newton pulls his right hand out of him, removes the glove on his left, and tosses it aside. Newton pushes his gloved fingers back in-- all three-- and lets out a hiss as he palms himself through his jeans with his free hand.

Hermann lets his head fall back on his pillow with a _thunk_. It felt too bloody good, and the knowledge that Newton was getting off on it just as much as he was? He reaches a hand down to tug at his prick a few times. 

Newton spreads his fingers inside him, scissors them back and forth, mumbles a stream of incoherent praise. Hermann tries not to let his hips jerk _too_ much every time Newton hits his prostate. 

Before long, Hermann is leaking and writhing, and he’s about to ask Newton for another finger--

“Ready for one more, baby?” 

“ _Oh_ _Newton_ ,” Hermann moans.

Newton pours more lube over his hand and adds his fourth finger, slowly, so slowly; he holds on to Hermann’s hip, applying just enough gentle pressure to keep him still, as he pushes in his thick pinky finger past Hermann’s rim milimetre by _bloody milimetre_. 

He pumps his fingers in and out of Hermann so carefully, so lovingly, that Hermann could cry if he wasn’t so focused on how good it feels. He pulls Newton down for a filthy kiss, all tongue and teeth and _bloody hell_ , Newton’s kissing down his jaw and sucking a bruise onto the side of his neck. 

“Do you like that?” Newton says in that raspy, wrecked voice that means _he probably likes it even more than Hermann does_. “Do you like my fingers in you?”

“Don’t--” Hermann groans, “don’t try to _dirty talk_ me, Newton, just, just _fuck_ me like I asked.”

“Okay, okay, here we go--” Newton pulls his fingers out just to push them forcefully back against Hermann’s prostate. 

Hermann’s back arches off the nest of foam pillows he’s sprawled out in. “Bloody hell, Newton, that feels--” he tosses his head back as Newton buries his fingers to the knuckle.

Hermann had tried to fist himself before; he’s lain in bed and tried to fit his whole hand in himself in a desperate attempt to gain the fullness he so often craves. But he’s only ever made it this far. Awkward angles and pain have kept him from ever getting past his knuckles. But Newton-- sweet, darling Newton, with his thick fingers and bright smile-- Newton is twisting his hand around and asking if he’s ready and _oh_ \--! He tucks in his thumb and with a heavy push, he’s all the way in. 

His vision blurs from pleasure, from pain, from _everything_. His ears are ringing and he can barely make out Newton’s babble of “...so good, you look so good, oh god Hermann, you look so fucking good all stretched out around me, you--” He clenches down around Newton’s wrist the best he can, he feels like he’s outside his own body watching himself get taken apart.

“How does it feel?” Newton asks, always so considerate, always so sweet, even buried wrist deep inside Hermann he’s so fucking _s_ _weet_. 

Hermann opens his mouth to speak and lets out a embarrassing half-moan-half-sob instead. “Like, like you’re everywhere,” he rambles, when he finally forces his mouth to form _words_. “Like you’re in me and it’s too much and-- and I’m not sure I can handle it.”

Newton nods, smoothing his other hand along Hermann’s thigh. “Is it too much? Do you want me to stop?”

“Oh _fuck_ , no,” Hermann groans, “just-- just give me a moment.”

Newton, who _so infrequently_ follows directions, gives him exactly that. He doesn’t move a single muscle fibre for what feels like hours while Hermann adjusts to his size. When Hermann finally gives him the go-ahead to move-- in the form of a hand on Newton’s cheek, eye contact, and a nod-- Newton gently, ever so gently, starts to rock his hand back and forth. He must have applied more lube at some point, because the slow, steady drag of latex on overheated, oversensitive skin is slick and smooth.

Hermann’s never felt anything like it. He feels tears welling up, threatening to spill over every time Newton’s fingers-- _Newton’s hand_ \-- skims along his prostate. He turns to the side and buries his face in the pillow as Newton grabs his prick and starts to wring mortifying sounds from his chest. 

“Hermann, baby, can I suck you?”

Hermann reluctantly pulls his head from the pillow. His face is wet. 

“You’re-- you’re dripping, Herms, please,” Newton whines, “I’ll make it so good for you.”

Hermann’s well past overstimulated, but he can’t possibly deny his darling Newton anything. Not when Newton’s done, not when Newton’s _doing_ , so, so much for him. He nods.

When Newton leans down and takes his flushed prick into his mouth, Hermann nearly blacks out. When Newton curls his hand into a fist, Hermann comes so hard he sees stars.

* * *

Hermann has no idea how long it takes before he’s cognizant again. He opens his eyes just in time to watch Newton kissing along his lower abdomen as he gently wipes off his mess with a wet towel. He reaches down and cards his fingers through Newton’s hair affectionately. 

“Hey, Herms,” Newton can’t wipe the smile off his face. “How do you feel? You all good?”

Hermann grumbles, but nods. He feels _empty_. And he’s sore as all hell, but it’s the good kind of sore, the fun kind-- the kind that will linger for days as a reminder of their, ah, _romantic activities_. He takes the washcloth from Newton’s hands and places it carefully on the bedside table. He reaches back down and pulls Newton up for a long, slow kiss. 

"Thank you, dear," he mumbles against Newton's lips, "you always take such good care of me." He gently tugs Newton down to lay beside him, tucked under his arm, and reaches for the waistband of Newton's boxers. "Now let me take care of you, darling." 

Newton looks up at Hermann, his chin propped on Hermann's chest, "Are you kidding me, dude? The sight of you all fucked out like that? It took me like, two whole seconds to jack off. I jizzed all over your hole, don't you remember?" 

Hermann flushes instantly. "Must you always be so crass?" he mumbles, but wraps his arms tighter around Newton all the same. Only once Newton's head is tucked safely below his chin does he allow himself a smile.


End file.
